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#251
13th Aug 2008 at 10:07 AM
13th Aug 2008 at 10:07 AM
(((OOC: Would like to add similar sentiments over the whole 'wakes up and wanders' thing... I really can't think of what else to do with her and well, she can't run into ME anymore :P
Though, I have to say, ME has a penchant for landing the most awkward neighbours!
)))
Though, I have to say, ME has a penchant for landing the most awkward neighbours!
)))
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#252
14th Aug 2008 at 9:49 PM
14th Aug 2008 at 9:49 PM
Octavien and Elena - Elena's suite
The wedding night had been a gross miscalculation, and a darned near disaster, but not altogether a failure. Armed with a series of expectations that were not reciprocated by her husband, Elena was however granted a rather unexpected glimpse into the mind of Octavien Lahance. In many ways, that victory was even more important than the consummation of the marriage, given the fact that otherwise Octavien would have had all the time in the world to establish his deception. For a short time during the height of the Prince's anger, Elena had feared his previous mask had concealed not only a sharp intellect and a strong will, but also a conniving mind to rival any she had ever encountered. That would have entirely changed the rules of the game they played in ways Elena was not fond of.
Fortunately, her appearance of compromise yielded some positive results: Octavien's stance shifted from belligerent to silently interested, and his glare turned discerning as he searched her features, no doubt trying to establish whether this was a true offer of peace or the impression of a one. Whichever his eventual conclusion, when Octavien addressed his young wife, enmity had drained from his tone. An encouraging result by all means.
"And in what way is it that you intend to know me, then?" he said "As an actual husband, or as a business partner who just happens to share your bed?"
Elena didn't answer immediately, but took a moment to ponder this. Not just the question, but what it told her about Octavien's own expectations and why he had reacted so badly to her pragmatic approach to their union. Dear Lord, she had married a romantic, after all! That alone meant that her original plan of indeed conducting their marriage much like a business agreement with the occasional intimate encounter would not work – the trick to the success of any venture was finding common grounds that both parties agreed upon, and it was becoming quite obvious it was not what Octavien wanted.
Another thing Elena had conveniently forgotten was the fact that being married was very much new territory for her. Conducting business with men whom she could easily ban from her life if she wanted and who could make no claims over her emotions and privacy was far different, and what she was accustomed to. In hindsight, she should have expected Octavien to object to being treated as such – only her imperious practicality had lead her to expect that he would see the benefits of such a relationship, since he also had no romantic interest. If mutually agreeable, it could have been the simplest solution. Elena was nurturing her own objectives at the expense of empathy, but that was because she firmly believed nobody else would do it for her. It was very much a dog eat dog world out there, and she was simply doing what everyone else was as well by protecting her own interests. Even darling Octavien. That did not mean she was completely incapable of positive emotion; it was simply not something she lavished on others, for emotions were shackles, weaknesses others could exploit. Ruthless, Elena could be: inherently evil however, she was not. There was one person she loved, and that was her father. She made use of him and his support, yes, but she cared about him, in her own reserved way and woe betide the man or woman who tried to harm him! It was one of the reasons why Elena despised the rest of her family, because they were like vultures circling an obviously dying man. Despite that, she felt no remorse at having left his side and married into the French royal family: his life was nearing its end whether she stayed in Spain or not, and she knew her father would die more peacefully, knowing his daughter's future was assured.
As for Octavien...unlike him, who had grown into adulthood expecting to marry a woman he loved, Elena had always known that love would not be an ingredient to her eventual marriage. It rarely was for people of her social standing, and having never been predisposed to romantic feelings, it was only the logical conclusion.
"I will admit I myself may not have encouraged... efforts to be made, but given the conversation we had the other day, I was under the impression that you would understand why."
The crisis was averted, it seemed. Not only that Octavien tempered his anger, but he even admitted to the very thing Elena had been ready to hurl at him if further provoked. She thought back at their conversation, and the impression he had wanted to make on her then: a newly-made prince, recently widowed only to find himself engaged to be married again. From an objective point of view, Elena could easily understand that most men would find themselves overwhelmed by the situation; through own egocentrical nature however, she had simply not wanted to be the one holding her husband's hand as he tread with uncertain steps down the path he himself had chosen, for she no longer believed Octavien had not known what he was getting himself into when deciding to forsake an untitled man's freedom and seek wealth and advancement.
Elena realized then that what Octavien might have been missing was acknowledgement, to be treated less like a commodity and more like what he had chosen to be, a Prince and in her case, a husband. So far, the new game of reciprocation was establishing a balance. That still placed the matter of the marriage consummation very much still in the air; even if Octavien felt so inclined then, it was Elena who no longer wished it. She was far too proud to accept the touch of a man who had rejected her only minutes earlier, regardless of her own faulty approach.
“If there is one thing experience has taught me about business partners”, Elena began diplomatically, “is that they tend to be temporary. I have only one husband, for what now appears to be the rest of our lives. Yes, I would like to know him.”
It was not a vow of undying love, no, but could Octavien really expect one? He did not love her any more than she loved him, and must have been aware that if he wanted to know her as a wife, and be known as a husband himself, it would not happen overnight.
”About our marriage: the timing is indeed...uncomfortable to say the least”, Elena agreed. “And while matters as delicate of what is expected to pass between us tonight would normally remain entirely private, I am sure you are just as aware as I am that we cannot count ourselves that fortunate. The evidence that will be sought, however, can be duplicated, thus allowing us the freedom of choosing the way any future...efforts will be conducted?”
Elena paused and curved one brow expectantly. She was taking the business-like approach again, true, but this time in a way to include both their interests and even encourage the bonding that Octavien seemed to want, once free of the sense of 'duty'. It was no use pretending anything of the intimate sort stood a chance of happening between them that night, yet it did not mean that others wouldn't expect it just the same. Checking the sheets of a newly-wedded couple was a known procedure, and not finding the scarlet proof of consummation would raise uncomfortable questions neither of them wished to answer. Thus, fabricating the said proof seemed the simplest solution.
Later, long after the sun had risen, both Prince and Princess stood side by side in silence as their bed was being examined: the covers had been pushed aside to reveal a small amount of blood staining the white linen, gleaming eerily by contrast. Horrid tradition, Elena couldn't help herself thinking with distaste. Next to her and unbeknownst to anyone but the two of them, Octavien's inner arm sported a fresh new cut.
((ooc: I know most of this takes place the previous evening, and is huge, but I wanted to give things a nice closure. If there's anything that doesn't work, Atropa, shoot me a PM
paintedgrey - if you sill want to go through with that idea we discussed, feel free to post!
Everyone else - I admit, I too am having problems figuring out plotlines, the only advice I can give at this point is looking at the list of characthers and trying to think of ways your character can be connected to them, whether it is friendly or not. Maybe something from the past, or a scandal? Scandals aren't compulsory anymore but that doesn't mean your character can't have one just the same. :D))
The wedding night had been a gross miscalculation, and a darned near disaster, but not altogether a failure. Armed with a series of expectations that were not reciprocated by her husband, Elena was however granted a rather unexpected glimpse into the mind of Octavien Lahance. In many ways, that victory was even more important than the consummation of the marriage, given the fact that otherwise Octavien would have had all the time in the world to establish his deception. For a short time during the height of the Prince's anger, Elena had feared his previous mask had concealed not only a sharp intellect and a strong will, but also a conniving mind to rival any she had ever encountered. That would have entirely changed the rules of the game they played in ways Elena was not fond of.
Fortunately, her appearance of compromise yielded some positive results: Octavien's stance shifted from belligerent to silently interested, and his glare turned discerning as he searched her features, no doubt trying to establish whether this was a true offer of peace or the impression of a one. Whichever his eventual conclusion, when Octavien addressed his young wife, enmity had drained from his tone. An encouraging result by all means.
"And in what way is it that you intend to know me, then?" he said "As an actual husband, or as a business partner who just happens to share your bed?"
Elena didn't answer immediately, but took a moment to ponder this. Not just the question, but what it told her about Octavien's own expectations and why he had reacted so badly to her pragmatic approach to their union. Dear Lord, she had married a romantic, after all! That alone meant that her original plan of indeed conducting their marriage much like a business agreement with the occasional intimate encounter would not work – the trick to the success of any venture was finding common grounds that both parties agreed upon, and it was becoming quite obvious it was not what Octavien wanted.
Another thing Elena had conveniently forgotten was the fact that being married was very much new territory for her. Conducting business with men whom she could easily ban from her life if she wanted and who could make no claims over her emotions and privacy was far different, and what she was accustomed to. In hindsight, she should have expected Octavien to object to being treated as such – only her imperious practicality had lead her to expect that he would see the benefits of such a relationship, since he also had no romantic interest. If mutually agreeable, it could have been the simplest solution. Elena was nurturing her own objectives at the expense of empathy, but that was because she firmly believed nobody else would do it for her. It was very much a dog eat dog world out there, and she was simply doing what everyone else was as well by protecting her own interests. Even darling Octavien. That did not mean she was completely incapable of positive emotion; it was simply not something she lavished on others, for emotions were shackles, weaknesses others could exploit. Ruthless, Elena could be: inherently evil however, she was not. There was one person she loved, and that was her father. She made use of him and his support, yes, but she cared about him, in her own reserved way and woe betide the man or woman who tried to harm him! It was one of the reasons why Elena despised the rest of her family, because they were like vultures circling an obviously dying man. Despite that, she felt no remorse at having left his side and married into the French royal family: his life was nearing its end whether she stayed in Spain or not, and she knew her father would die more peacefully, knowing his daughter's future was assured.
As for Octavien...unlike him, who had grown into adulthood expecting to marry a woman he loved, Elena had always known that love would not be an ingredient to her eventual marriage. It rarely was for people of her social standing, and having never been predisposed to romantic feelings, it was only the logical conclusion.
"I will admit I myself may not have encouraged... efforts to be made, but given the conversation we had the other day, I was under the impression that you would understand why."
The crisis was averted, it seemed. Not only that Octavien tempered his anger, but he even admitted to the very thing Elena had been ready to hurl at him if further provoked. She thought back at their conversation, and the impression he had wanted to make on her then: a newly-made prince, recently widowed only to find himself engaged to be married again. From an objective point of view, Elena could easily understand that most men would find themselves overwhelmed by the situation; through own egocentrical nature however, she had simply not wanted to be the one holding her husband's hand as he tread with uncertain steps down the path he himself had chosen, for she no longer believed Octavien had not known what he was getting himself into when deciding to forsake an untitled man's freedom and seek wealth and advancement.
Elena realized then that what Octavien might have been missing was acknowledgement, to be treated less like a commodity and more like what he had chosen to be, a Prince and in her case, a husband. So far, the new game of reciprocation was establishing a balance. That still placed the matter of the marriage consummation very much still in the air; even if Octavien felt so inclined then, it was Elena who no longer wished it. She was far too proud to accept the touch of a man who had rejected her only minutes earlier, regardless of her own faulty approach.
“If there is one thing experience has taught me about business partners”, Elena began diplomatically, “is that they tend to be temporary. I have only one husband, for what now appears to be the rest of our lives. Yes, I would like to know him.”
It was not a vow of undying love, no, but could Octavien really expect one? He did not love her any more than she loved him, and must have been aware that if he wanted to know her as a wife, and be known as a husband himself, it would not happen overnight.
”About our marriage: the timing is indeed...uncomfortable to say the least”, Elena agreed. “And while matters as delicate of what is expected to pass between us tonight would normally remain entirely private, I am sure you are just as aware as I am that we cannot count ourselves that fortunate. The evidence that will be sought, however, can be duplicated, thus allowing us the freedom of choosing the way any future...efforts will be conducted?”
Elena paused and curved one brow expectantly. She was taking the business-like approach again, true, but this time in a way to include both their interests and even encourage the bonding that Octavien seemed to want, once free of the sense of 'duty'. It was no use pretending anything of the intimate sort stood a chance of happening between them that night, yet it did not mean that others wouldn't expect it just the same. Checking the sheets of a newly-wedded couple was a known procedure, and not finding the scarlet proof of consummation would raise uncomfortable questions neither of them wished to answer. Thus, fabricating the said proof seemed the simplest solution.
Later, long after the sun had risen, both Prince and Princess stood side by side in silence as their bed was being examined: the covers had been pushed aside to reveal a small amount of blood staining the white linen, gleaming eerily by contrast. Horrid tradition, Elena couldn't help herself thinking with distaste. Next to her and unbeknownst to anyone but the two of them, Octavien's inner arm sported a fresh new cut.
((ooc: I know most of this takes place the previous evening, and is huge, but I wanted to give things a nice closure. If there's anything that doesn't work, Atropa, shoot me a PM
paintedgrey - if you sill want to go through with that idea we discussed, feel free to post!
Everyone else - I admit, I too am having problems figuring out plotlines, the only advice I can give at this point is looking at the list of characthers and trying to think of ways your character can be connected to them, whether it is friendly or not. Maybe something from the past, or a scandal? Scandals aren't compulsory anymore but that doesn't mean your character can't have one just the same. :D))
#253
14th Aug 2008 at 9:55 PM
14th Aug 2008 at 9:55 PM
#254
14th Aug 2008 at 9:58 PM
14th Aug 2008 at 9:58 PM
((ooc: I'm sorry to see you go, Furry 
But thanks for letting me know just the same. Unfortunately that means I'll have to come up with a reason why the Queen's appointed Voice-in-Court is not there anymore, you don't happen to have an explanation handy?))
But thanks for letting me know just the same. Unfortunately that means I'll have to come up with a reason why the Queen's appointed Voice-in-Court is not there anymore, you don't happen to have an explanation handy?))
#255
14th Aug 2008 at 10:03 PM
14th Aug 2008 at 10:03 PM
#256
14th Aug 2008 at 10:05 PM
14th Aug 2008 at 10:05 PM
#257
14th Aug 2008 at 10:07 PM
14th Aug 2008 at 10:07 PM
#258
14th Aug 2008 at 10:17 PM
14th Aug 2008 at 10:17 PM
((ooc: It would be the neatest way, but not necessary considering he's not involved in any actual interractions with anyone. I can include it in tomorrow's announcements. So, I guess this is goodbye. See you around Morgan's Creek, yeah? ))
))
#259
14th Aug 2008 at 10:18 PM
14th Aug 2008 at 10:18 PM
#260
14th Aug 2008 at 10:33 PM
14th Aug 2008 at 10:33 PM
Baroness Adele Rosseau || Her Suite
))Not a sound was made as Adele tossed and turned in her bed the next morning. A smile crept upon her face as she looked around the room. Her thoughts traveled over to the Marquise de Valois, whose son kindly took her took her suite when the night was over. She thought of them as friendly people, not at all unkind as she imagined everyone to be when she first arrived at the palace. Surprisingly she felt calm this morning, for she was beginning to feel less and less overwhelmed as the days slowly passed by. But as peaceful as she felt, her calm emotional state was interrupted by a loud rapping noise on her door. Clearly awake and annoyed, Adele steadily walked over to the door as the rapping failed to cease. Yet when she opened the door, a shocked expression emerged on her face, only to be replaced by anger a few seconds later.
How could she have found me? The thought swirled in Adele’s mind, along with many others which caused questioning. When she finally moved out of her father’s house, she believed she was safe from the wretched woman standing just outside her suite. She found it highly unlikely that she would ever seek to find her, thus making her feel as if she no longer had to constantly look over her shoulder, waiting for the woman to come after her. But she was here, just as she had imagined for years and years. Yet what had she come for would shock Adele in more ways than one?
"I have come for my money," she said simply, gazing at Adele with intense eyes. She gave the woman a confused look, wondering what she meant by her money. Surely she didn’t mean the money that she inherited from her father, no it just couldn’t be possible. Could she no longer sway men with her flirtatious ways, and had to resort to her for money? Or was she simply doing it to spite her? Either reason seemed possible. The money was hers, and there was no chance she was going to give it up, especially to the woman whom she felt made her life difficult.
"What money?" Adele asked. "You’ll be getting no money from me, be sure of that."
"I’m not asking for money," she replied with a slightly amused expression on her face. "I’m claiming it." A small chuckle escaped Adele’s pale lips, and she gazed towards the woman once more. "What do you mean by your money?" Are you daft? That money is rightfully mine, you were no longer with my father when he died. Adele shook her head in complete amusement. None of this money belonged to her, she had no right to just come into the palace and try to take it.
"Please," she said. "I would not be here if I did not have a reason to. I deserve some of that money. I stayed with that drunken old fool for quite some time, I think I deserve something for that." Adele then stepped outside with her, while the woman gazed with a smile on her face. "Besides, I may not have been with your father at the time, but that does not mean I was not married to him. The young woman found herself at a loss for words. She tensed up and looked at the woman with angered eyes. It was possible, that her father had forgotten that he was still married to that horrible woman, but how on earth could he forget something as important as that. He had no will when he died, which meant that there was a chance that she could get her money back.
"We can settle this the hard, or the easy way Adele."
"You will address me as Baroness," she snapped, looking at the woman with pure disgust. "How dare you come here and expect me to give you money, which you claim is yours. How am I to know you are not lying about it all? You have lied many times before." Even if she did deserve the money, there was no chance she was going to give it to her. After all the toil she was put through she was not just going to give the woman money and have that be the end of it. What if she left for a while, then came back asking for more money? She had seen it countless times before. This woman was a liar, and she would refuse to believe that she was still married to her father.
"The money was never yours, and will never become yours! All you are doing is lying to me, in hopes of gaining money! I am not the little girl you used to torment, and I will not let you lie and cheat your way to riches!" Adele came close to the woman, her gaze staring straight into hers. "I suggest you leave now, for you are no longer welcome here."
The woman, who appeared to be quite angry at this point, walked over towards Adele. "I will be back Baroness, she said, giving a smirk. When I come back I expect to see my fair share of money, or I will tell everyone about your dark past." Out of pure frustration, Adele snapped again. "Leave."
The woman laughed, then looked towards her one more. "Believe me Baroness, I know more than you think I do. If you had any common sense, you would give me the money and get on with you life. You don’t want me to cause a scene when I return, do you?" Tears trickled down Adele's cheeks and landed onto the floor. How could this have happened to her? She couldn’t be telling the truth, there was no way she was still married to her father. She needed to do something, anything, from keeping that woman from ever entering the palace doors again. But she couldn't do this by herself - no, no, she would need some help. Desperation overcame Adele, and she found herself willing to do anything to get rid of her father's second wife. There had to be someone - anyone, willing to help her. She looked towards the woman once more, wanting her to leave. But she would not go away, but instead stood there with a smirk.
#261
15th Aug 2008 at 10:45 AM
15th Aug 2008 at 10:45 AM
#262
15th Aug 2008 at 3:18 PM
15th Aug 2008 at 3:18 PM
Octavien
So yes, he had many of the qualities of a politician, but he was not one.
However, apparently, he had just married one. Like him, Elena was intelligent and intellectual, but where he insisted on having his heart be in on the course of action, she had been simply pragmatic. Until she realized it was the completely wrong way of going about things with him. Or rather, until he made her realize it was the completely wrong way of going about things with him. Then she had changed from pragmatism to diplomacy, perhaps in the process further realizing that it was indeed no mere pawn she was dealing with. Her new husband didn't simply follow orders and expectations unconditionally, he saw to it that he was part of conducting the actual game. And she adjusted accordingly, much like many politicians would, all for the sake of achieving their own goals further down the road, even if it meant changing their tactics. For Octavien was still not convinced she was doing it out of agreement with the points he had made, or based on emotion, rather than out of simple necessity.
Nevertheless, she had chosen to accomodate him, and regardless of whether or not it was genuine, it was a start. Though he had to admit, that the further their conversation had gone as the moon slowly drifted across the night sky, the more genuine she had seemed in wanting to form at least a friendship with him; something Octavien himself would like to see happen. He would be wary of it, of course, until it had been proven beyond a doubt to be real, and not just a facade to keep him from being too difficult to handle, but he would do what he could to help it along. Within reason, of course. For despite what his actions this morning, day and evening might have lead Elena to think, he did realize the benefits of the two of them being on the same side. There was much they could achieve, with forces and efforts joined.
Why, come morning, it was already somewhat under way, as despite having teetered on the verge of enmity at first, they had eventually ended up resolving the delicate matter of 'evidence' of a marriage consummated, together and in agreement that it would take the pressure off of the both of them, so that they might indeed get to know one another a little better at least, and thus perhaps 'inspire efforts' at a later time.
Though after the morning ritual of their privacy being invaded and their sheets inspected, as Octavien was making his way outside to the gardens for a stroll to mull over everything that had happened over the past two days, he found himself wondering that with Elena's lacking interest in him as a man - and quite frankly, his lacking interest in her as a woman - did she still want to go through with it? After all, she no longer had to. Everyone thought the deed was done, Octavien, if asked, would vouch that she had been a virgin, as had the sheets already done, and so there really was no need for her to share her bed with him again. If she wanted an heir, or her 'needs' tended to, she could just take a lover, a man she actually wanted in her bed. Of course, there would always be the risk of rumours leaking, or her affair being downright discovered, but still... Octavien could end up having to claim fatherhood of a child that was not his after all, despite the one which he had originally planned to do so with, having perishied with it's mother.
Oh, the irony.
(((ooc: Short and rambly, possibly not making much sense, but in short, he's in the gardens, and is approachable.)))
#263
15th Aug 2008 at 4:03 PM
15th Aug 2008 at 4:03 PM
#264
15th Aug 2008 at 4:42 PM
15th Aug 2008 at 4:42 PM
#265
15th Aug 2008 at 4:57 PM
15th Aug 2008 at 4:57 PM
(((ooc: I don't mind prolonging the days. Will give more time for things to happen. And right, I'll correct the eye color when I get home from work (leaving right about.... now.) )))
And right, I'll correct the eye color when I get home from work (leaving right about.... now.) )))
#266
15th Aug 2008 at 7:47 PM
15th Aug 2008 at 7:47 PM
#267
16th Aug 2008 at 2:10 PM
16th Aug 2008 at 2:10 PM
César and Joséphine - de la Valliére suite
But, he also needed for her to know, because he couldn't stand the though of her not knowing. Even if she wanted to part with him, he needed her to know that he had been genuine whenever he had expressed his love for her, that it had not been just a pretend game to keep her satisfied and oblivious.
And now that he had said it, now that he had told her, from what he hoped she would recognize as the bottom of his heart... his deepest hope was that she would say it back. For as long as there was still love between them, the rest could be sorted out. Right? Didn't they say that in the end, love conquered all? It was such a cliché, but clichés did come from somewhere, did they not? In essence, they all had a certain amount of truth in them, or else they would not have become clichés in the first place.
César so needed this one to be true, but he was so very afraid that just when he had been made to realize that he had done what he'd never thought himself capable of doing, and hurt his darling Joséphine, he would not get a chance to try and make things right. That her outburst the other day had opened up a Pandora's box of feelings she had obviously kept locked inside, at least around César, and that now it would refuse to close, washing what was left of their relationship with bitterness and anger that would not go away, no matter how hard he tried to make amends.
Therefore, when at first she didn't say anything, when the deafening silence settled once more, he could barely bring himself to look at her, out of fear of seeing something in her eyes that he did not want to see. Much like a child would, he sought comfort in that if he didn't look her way, if he did not see it, it was not there. At least not until she would put it into words, and make it inevitable. He had tried at first, but as the silence grew longer, and the only sign of a reaction was tears welling up in her eyes, a single one spilling onto her pallid cheek, he could no longer bear it, and his gaze dropped to the floor by the end of the bed, locking itself onto the intricate pattern of the carpet underneath it.
Mostly out of the corner of his eyes, he saw her approach, but did manage to keep his eyes on her long enough to realize that she seemed to come in peace. Considering the reaction his words the other day by the lake, of caring for her, had gotten, he had been unsure of what to expect now. Perhaps saying he loved her would cause another eruption of angry words... He doubted it, but then again, he had been rather dumbstruck by how he had seemed to only antagonise her even further by the lake.
Though not even when she knelt by his side, and he felt her dainty touch upon his arm, was he able to keep his gaze on her for very long. It did make his heart skip a beat, and his eyes to land on her hand, and then briefly on her face, but eventually guilt and dread compelled him to look away once more. He just felt so very... defeated. And the irony of it all was that it was he himself who indirectly had defeated him, simply because none of this would've come to pass, had he not sought the attention of other women.
Or would it? He still didn't know just how far back Joséphine's affair with Octavien went, and how deep her feelings for him ran. Women did tend to care more in casual relationships than men did, and so to think that Joséphine was having an affair with Octavien, could mean César had far more competition than Joséphine had ever had. Truth be told, she'd never actually had any competition. In the end, it had always been her. But with her and Octavien...? Knowing how passionate a woman she really was, César couldn't help but wonder... Did she love him?
"I know", came her gentle voice from beside him, filled with honesty and reassurance as if she had sensed the very thoughts running through his head, momentarily shattering those very fears, and drawing his gaze back to her once more as those had been words to infuse him with a little bit of hope.
However, the feeling didn't last, as even though when she continued with words that filled his heart with warmth and relief, she ended with words that rammed a jagged pole of pure ice violently through it.
"I love you too", she said, "more than you know. What I said the other day... it was anger speaking, I've always loved you and always will. That is why I too have something that I need you to know: the truth, all of it. I don't want us to lie to each other any more."
'The truth, all of it'... Even his face turned away from her at the sound of those words, as though a slap had just landed on his cheek and forced his head to turn. Clearly he dreaded what 'the truth, all of it' would entail. Judging by the sounds of it, there seemed to be far more to the story than what César had witnessed between his wife and his friend. So then, would his worst fears turn out to be true?
Obviously, he didn't say anything. He couldn't, for more than one reason. The first being that she had indicated she was already about to tell him, and so he couldn't refuse her to do so, no matter if he wanted to. The second was the fact that he felt downright physically unable to speak, as an iron band had been cast around his chest, and was slowly tightening around it, slowly suffocating him. And the third?
He had to know, even if it killed him. For if he was to be left wallowing in uncertainty, it surely would kill him.
Thus, he finally managed a faint nod, signalling that he was waiting for her to say what she had to say, and tried to brace himself for whatever it would be, so focused on doing it mentally that he didn't realize he did it outwardly as well. His grip of the armrests tightened, and just ever so slightly, he pressed himself back against the chair, much like one would when trying to keep oneself steady.
(((ooc: Jesus Christ, I turned him into Octavien. *rolls eyes at self for all the overly sensitive and emotional crap* Sorry if I didn't give you much to go on, Ghanima, but I just could think of something for him to say. :/ )))
#268
16th Aug 2008 at 4:22 PM
16th Aug 2008 at 4:22 PM
Octavien and Bella - Palace gardens
If Isabella did end up having the child she claimed to be carrying, however, that child would end up the heir of the throne, thus pushing Octavien, ironically it's own father, out of the running. Not that Octavien minded too much, since he was quite content where he was. At least for now. But still... It would be so very ironic. Octavien's illegitimate child robbing any legitimate one that he might produce with Elena - a thought that had started to actually grow on him; well, having one, he still had issues with the actual making of one - of the throne. And, the irony would stretch even so much further, if Elena really did end up taking a lover and having his son instead, in which case Octavien's child, who would be believed to have been fathered by the King, would push Elena's lover's child, believed to have been fathered by Octavien, out of the running.
Ah, it really would be quite the typical ancient Greek drama, wouldn't it? Or a modern French farce, even. Yes, indeed, it was such a humorous scenario, that Octavien couldn't help but to grin to himself.
And it was at that very moment, when at the height of his musings, a soft voice cut right through them, beckoning him back to reality.
"Your highness."
The faint smile still on his lips, Octavien turned his head to see who it was, only to have the smile widen ever so slightly when his eyes landed on the approaching form of Comtesse Devine.
"Good morning", she greeted upon arrival, with a smile of her own having formed on her rosey lips. "And congratulations, of course. It was a splendid wedding."
Having noted with amusement her lack of the customary deep curtsey, and wondering if it was a sign that she had taken his words at the Opera to heart, about having wished to be 'just' Octavien, her comment about the wedding made some of the mirth, just a tiny fragment, fade from his smile and bring it to a brief freeze, as the two events offered memories of very, very different natures. Though the reaction lasted only a split second, and so before the look had even had a chance of manifesting itself on his noble, youthful features, the gusto returned to his charming smile, and he offered a courteous nod.
"Good morning, Comtesse", he said. "And thank you. I hope you found it an event as enjoyable as you found it splendid."
With that, he glanced towards the gravel path ahead of them, his hand following in an indicative motion.
"May I have the honor of your company for a morning stroll?"
#269
16th Aug 2008 at 5:36 PM
16th Aug 2008 at 5:36 PM
Elena and Adele (and her stepmother) - The Corridors
A stressful day followed by a nearly sleepless and no less tense night was beginning to take its toll on Elena, despite being used to sleeping little. In fact, if one gazed back at the past week, it was composed of particularly assiduous days, leaving no doubt as to the reason for that lethargy which pulled the Princess back towards the couch she had been reclining in. Elena had been alone for an hour following Octavien's departure, spending the better part of it meditating over the previous night's events. All in all, she handled herself well in there, considering she had been forced to deal with a man who wasn't only a complete stranger turned husband literally overnight, but one who was actively attempting to...influence her perception of his true mental capacities. Diplomacy, apparently, conquered all and the couple parted on positive, though vague, terms which did leave Elena with plenty of concerns for the future. Primarily, how the practical side of their marriage, the reason Elena became Princess of the French in the first place, would find conjunction with the personal one. By their own admission, both Octavien and Elena wished to allow themselves the time to bond emotionally and not just on strict business terms. This vexed Elena, because it created too many uncertainties, making a solid plan far more difficult to conceive. For once, she did not know whether Octavien had said it for the same reason she had, because at the time it felt like the best way to avoid a complete disaster. No longer forced by necessity, it felt unlikely that either would be compelled to share a bed any time soon, yet living separate lives wasn't an option either: politically and financially, they could use some unity. However, if Octavien wouldn't have one without the other...
In the end, there was only one logical conclusion: tread lightly and encourage cooperation.
Having settled that, Elena summoned Juanita to dress her for the coming day, choosing a deep purple gown with silver threading along the bodice, hems and sleeves. Purple, the colour of royalty. This would be her first actual chance of visiting the Palace and its grounds with no ulterior motive...or rather with no defined ulterior motive. As ever, Elena remained vigilant and perceptive to her surroundings, in case there was something worth a closer inspection.
Descending the stairs into the lower level of the Palace, Elena found herself treading the long marble corridors that were still very empty at that time of the day, or else most nobles were already enjoying the warm outdoors. However, empty as they might have been, an amalgam of strident voices perturbed the Princess' hearing: the noise was coming from nearby, and sounded like an argument in full swing between two women. This brought Elena's shapely brows together in a most displeased frown: what manner of unsavoury spectacle was this? Nobles squabbling publicly like peasants? She was about to distance herself from the source of this annoyance when several words reached her ears, stirring curiosity: “...I will not let you lie and cheat your way to riches!"
The reason was that Elena could lucidly recall an instance when she herself had uttered words very similar to those, although that discussion between her and her cousin Alfredo had been conducted in private and on dangerously low tones filled with unspoken threats rather than hurled in anger. Still, it was enough to convince Elena to approach and see what the matter was. As she closed in on the scene, two feminine silhouettes emerged into view, one with her back towards her, the other facing them both. More heated words were shouted, leaving no doubt in Elena's mind that the argument had money as its reason, demanded from the younger woman with much vehemence and less-than subtle threats. Elena disliked people who caused scenes, a hard gleam emerging in her umber eyes as she stopped, surveying them both from several paces away. The older woman looked haughty and challenging, but it was the younger one who caught Elena's attention: desperation was etched into her features, and her cheeks bore the moist traces of recent tears. Desperate people were useful, and susceptible to...coercion. Desperate nobles even more so to a newly-made Princess of foreign origins. With that in mind, Elena simply could not disregard the opportunity.
“Is there some sort of problem?” she artfully interrupted the two quarrelling women.
((ooc: Hope it works for you, paintedgrey! :D
Atropa - *awwwwww César!* Okay, now that that's out of the way, don't worry about the lack of dialogue, I already have mine planned out :nod)
A stressful day followed by a nearly sleepless and no less tense night was beginning to take its toll on Elena, despite being used to sleeping little. In fact, if one gazed back at the past week, it was composed of particularly assiduous days, leaving no doubt as to the reason for that lethargy which pulled the Princess back towards the couch she had been reclining in. Elena had been alone for an hour following Octavien's departure, spending the better part of it meditating over the previous night's events. All in all, she handled herself well in there, considering she had been forced to deal with a man who wasn't only a complete stranger turned husband literally overnight, but one who was actively attempting to...influence her perception of his true mental capacities. Diplomacy, apparently, conquered all and the couple parted on positive, though vague, terms which did leave Elena with plenty of concerns for the future. Primarily, how the practical side of their marriage, the reason Elena became Princess of the French in the first place, would find conjunction with the personal one. By their own admission, both Octavien and Elena wished to allow themselves the time to bond emotionally and not just on strict business terms. This vexed Elena, because it created too many uncertainties, making a solid plan far more difficult to conceive. For once, she did not know whether Octavien had said it for the same reason she had, because at the time it felt like the best way to avoid a complete disaster. No longer forced by necessity, it felt unlikely that either would be compelled to share a bed any time soon, yet living separate lives wasn't an option either: politically and financially, they could use some unity. However, if Octavien wouldn't have one without the other...
In the end, there was only one logical conclusion: tread lightly and encourage cooperation.
Having settled that, Elena summoned Juanita to dress her for the coming day, choosing a deep purple gown with silver threading along the bodice, hems and sleeves. Purple, the colour of royalty. This would be her first actual chance of visiting the Palace and its grounds with no ulterior motive...or rather with no defined ulterior motive. As ever, Elena remained vigilant and perceptive to her surroundings, in case there was something worth a closer inspection.
Descending the stairs into the lower level of the Palace, Elena found herself treading the long marble corridors that were still very empty at that time of the day, or else most nobles were already enjoying the warm outdoors. However, empty as they might have been, an amalgam of strident voices perturbed the Princess' hearing: the noise was coming from nearby, and sounded like an argument in full swing between two women. This brought Elena's shapely brows together in a most displeased frown: what manner of unsavoury spectacle was this? Nobles squabbling publicly like peasants? She was about to distance herself from the source of this annoyance when several words reached her ears, stirring curiosity: “...I will not let you lie and cheat your way to riches!"
The reason was that Elena could lucidly recall an instance when she herself had uttered words very similar to those, although that discussion between her and her cousin Alfredo had been conducted in private and on dangerously low tones filled with unspoken threats rather than hurled in anger. Still, it was enough to convince Elena to approach and see what the matter was. As she closed in on the scene, two feminine silhouettes emerged into view, one with her back towards her, the other facing them both. More heated words were shouted, leaving no doubt in Elena's mind that the argument had money as its reason, demanded from the younger woman with much vehemence and less-than subtle threats. Elena disliked people who caused scenes, a hard gleam emerging in her umber eyes as she stopped, surveying them both from several paces away. The older woman looked haughty and challenging, but it was the younger one who caught Elena's attention: desperation was etched into her features, and her cheeks bore the moist traces of recent tears. Desperate people were useful, and susceptible to...coercion. Desperate nobles even more so to a newly-made Princess of foreign origins. With that in mind, Elena simply could not disregard the opportunity.
“Is there some sort of problem?” she artfully interrupted the two quarrelling women.
((ooc: Hope it works for you, paintedgrey! :D
Atropa - *awwwwww César!* Okay, now that that's out of the way, don't worry about the lack of dialogue, I already have mine planned out :nod
)
#270
17th Aug 2008 at 9:02 PM
17th Aug 2008 at 9:02 PM
Bella and Octavien - Gardens
Truth be told, she enjoyed Octavien’s company. She truly enjoyed his company when he had been ‘just’ Octavien – the fact that he’d been so original itself enough to obscure the fact that he had lied by omission – in the ballroom, she’d truly enjoyed the time at the Opera with Joséphine and César as additions to form even more delightful company. She hadn’t spent that much time socialising for one thing always came first; her father. She’d always been on the move and thus had had little opportunity to form lasting or significant friendships since then. And though this was not a lasting or significant friendship as it stood, it had the infancy of one, just as Bella had felt with Joséphine at the banquet.
Though, in the big picture, it never could be that simply, could it? Cruel that the first two chances she was given at actual amity in recent times were both to be damaged by the one single event that gave her those very opportunities in the first place. If it wasn’t for her arrangement with Elena, she would not have travelled back to France, she would not have arrived in court to happen upon that chance meeting with Octavien and she would have not met Joséphine either. Though, that very fact dampened to Bella the possibility of true friendship with both of them; she was to spy on Octavien and Joséphine was, as he put it himself, a dear friend of his. So, though Bella would have gladly accepted either of their friendships, it was likely to have its backlash of tainted guilt upon her.
Though, unavoidable, was it not? And rather advised too, a friendship with Octavien, for it would give her an opportunity to earn his trust, to learn more of his secrets and relay them onto Elena for information regarding her father. There was another problem, that if she truly did befriend him, she could not possibly completely betray his trust. For cunning though Bella was, she was not without conscience. The only thing that could possibly help was that if Octavien was particularly unpleasant, giving her enough reason to plot against him. Though, it seemed that there was no chance of that, given his agreeable countenance.
Life could be so very poetically twisted.
"Good morning, Comtesse,” he greeted cordially, turning to face her with a smile widening over his lips. "And thank you. I hope you found it an event as enjoyable as you found it splendid."
"May I have the honor of your company for a morning stroll?" he asked, his eyes and hand gesturing towards the pathway etched out before them. So, business or pleasure? She couldn’t have both and she couldn’t reject both.
“It'd be my pleasure,” she answered warmly with an amicable smile. She had to choose between the two, but she herself did not have to make the choice. She refused to. She would instead have Octavien make it for her. “And it was indeed an enjoyable event.” Then, she added, with swift, yet slight gaiety masking her inner unrest: “The French certainly held their own in splendour; our Prince looked magnificent."
Moving the topic away from his wedding, one she knew that he had little control over and given her own experience with Elena, one that would solve no problems for him, she continued on.
“You looked very thoughtful,” she commented, then remembering with an appreciative smile that was quite exactly what she’d said to him the first time they’d met. Well, it seemed that he was a very thoughtful person then, though it’d be quite worrying if he wasn’t, given the recent events of his life. “Again." With that, the slight amusing nostalgia in her countenance diminished a little, giving some concern to whether she was imposing this time around. "I hope I wasn't interrupting this time either?”
(((OOC: Hope this works for you, Atropa
)))
#271
18th Aug 2008 at 5:49 AM
18th Aug 2008 at 5:49 AM
Marie-Elisabeth - Wandering about
Morning came and the sun came up, and surprisingly to most who knew her, it found Marie-Elisabeth not asleep in bed. Or even in her new suite for that matter. No she was rather far away from it, wandering through the gardens, already up and dressed. She had decided on a surprisingly plain and simple dress that day, and her hair was done rather simply as well. The only jewelry she had on was her ever present locket; she had chosen to keep everything else locked up in her jewelry box. She was in an odd mood that morning. It wasn’t necessarily a bad one, but it wasn’t a good one either. It was sort of a blank state of mind, not thinking about much in particular.
Charles wasn’t with her because he was still asleep, and most likely would be for quite some time. He had inherited his mother’s sleeping habits, and would most likely be abed till noon. That was fine with Marie-Elisabeth; he needed the time to rest after the exciting day yesterday. Monsieur Simon was waiting around in one of the outer rooms for him to wake up, and Marie-Elisabeth was going to go back and get him around lunchtime. Hopefully without running into either of her new neighbours.
Now that was a situation she definitely wanted to avoid if she was alone. Of all the suites she could have put in, despite the face that she loved the grandness and scale of her new rooms, she had to be put in the one between Cesar and his children. She knew the scene that could result from a possible confrontation would not be a pleasant one. Although with the amount of times she had seen any member of the de la Vallière family recently, that was unlikely. That had contributed to her current less than pleasant mood, most of her recent company, with the obvious exception of her son, had been less than enthralling. Being at the wedding yesterday had made her realize how much she missed having someone special in her life. Even if Charles hadn’t been the great romantic love of her life, he had always been there with her and they had been happy in a strange way. And now she was, for all intents and purposes, alone.
Marie-Elisabeth sighed at the thought and continued walking through the gardens, wondering if she was the only one strange enough to be awake already.
Charles wasn’t with her because he was still asleep, and most likely would be for quite some time. He had inherited his mother’s sleeping habits, and would most likely be abed till noon. That was fine with Marie-Elisabeth; he needed the time to rest after the exciting day yesterday. Monsieur Simon was waiting around in one of the outer rooms for him to wake up, and Marie-Elisabeth was going to go back and get him around lunchtime. Hopefully without running into either of her new neighbours.
Now that was a situation she definitely wanted to avoid if she was alone. Of all the suites she could have put in, despite the face that she loved the grandness and scale of her new rooms, she had to be put in the one between Cesar and his children. She knew the scene that could result from a possible confrontation would not be a pleasant one. Although with the amount of times she had seen any member of the de la Vallière family recently, that was unlikely. That had contributed to her current less than pleasant mood, most of her recent company, with the obvious exception of her son, had been less than enthralling. Being at the wedding yesterday had made her realize how much she missed having someone special in her life. Even if Charles hadn’t been the great romantic love of her life, he had always been there with her and they had been happy in a strange way. And now she was, for all intents and purposes, alone.
Marie-Elisabeth sighed at the thought and continued walking through the gardens, wondering if she was the only one strange enough to be awake already.
(((OOC: Approachable. My muse is still MIA but I dragged him back kicking and screaming. Oh and I mentioned a Vid I was going to make MUCH earlier. Well I was using Casanova for it, but I hit a wall because of the lack of footage of the girl for ME. Well I decided to use tudors instead....and it's going marvelously. You guys will love it *grins*)))
#272
18th Aug 2008 at 10:46 AM
18th Aug 2008 at 10:46 AM
#273
18th Aug 2008 at 8:47 PM
18th Aug 2008 at 8:47 PM
Octavien and Bella - Palace gardens
Then, there was of course Elena, his new wife, and the myriad of possibilities and problems it all was currently spreading at his feet. There was the still the unconsummated wedding, the near disasterous turned fairly friendly encounter between them, the prospect of children, and everything else he had already mulled over to the point of doing so obsessively. But, there was also the matter of his slight deception, of holding back on his wit. Last nights events had seen him throw that minor charade out the window quite willingly, in order to make his stance, and at least part of his strength known, and he wasn't quite sure how Elena had really reacted to it, as what he had said had taken precedence. Though granted, even if she had thought he was a bit slow, only to realize that he was not, there was no way for her to know it had been an intentional move of his to have her think he was a bit of a simpleton. It could just as well have been inhibition caused by reservation, uneasiness or absent-mindedness. He had after all had every reason to be somewhat distracted, overwhelmed by the inner ponderings of what his life had turned into within such a short period of time.
However, with Elena, the things to be pondered didn't end there. In addition to all else, there was also her initial, and quite possibly lingering, preference to handle the marriage much like one would a business deal. Emotions set aside, even downright dismissed, in favour of unfeeling logic. Clearly, the two of them had very different opinions of what an ideal alliance was like. For even if Octavien was to take a more pragmatic approach, it would never be one without emotion. Indeed, human feelings were fickle, but when used properly, they could form shackles so strong no amount of threats or blackmail could break them. And the best part was, to most they wouldn't even feel like shackles in the first place.
Therefore, as far as Octavien was concerned, an alliance based on, say, friendship was a far more trustworthy alliance, than one based on need or coercion, because in the case of the latter, as soon as the other party saw a chance of breaking free or stabbing you in the back, they just might take it, whereas in the case of a friendly alliance, they would rather point the situation out to you, and help you resolve it.
But, right now, these were exactly the kind of inner musings he needed to get away from, if just for a little while, and that, that was partly why he was so happy to come across Bella. For even though trust was still something to be established between the two, hers was a friendly face without a massive tangle of tension, uncertainties and guilt hidden beneath the surface. There was yet no history to complicate matters, no involvement in any of all the things that currently weighed heavily on Octavien's mind. Or so he thought. To him, she was a new acquaintance whose company he enjoyed, and who seemed to enjoy his as well, and not only because he was the Prince, as she had seemed to enjoy it even before she found out who he was.
With everything that was going on around him, it was a relief to encounter her again, to see her friendly, smiling face and be offered a bit of an escape from it all, to think of something else for a change. Her easygoing and lighthearted mien was a breath of fresh air he felt he could really use, partly as a way of taking his mind off of things, and it was why he had not hesitated to ask her to join him. And much to his satisfaction, she accepted the offer much in the same manner, without hesitation.
"It'd be my pleasure", she said with a warm smile, and then continued as he extended his arm for her to accept before they started along the gravel path. "And it was indeed an enjoyable event. The French certainly held their own in splendour; our Prince looked magnificent."
At that, Octavien merely smiled and offered another small nod in humble recognition of the compliment, as she apparently had more to say yet, and he didn't wish to interrupt.
"You looked very thoughtful", she said, changing the subject from the previous day to the present, while her thoughts clearly travelled back to one slightly further into the past; the one of their first meeting, and she added with another smile forming on her lips; "Again."
Though the amusement therein soon faded slightly, and instead a faint look of concern entered those warm, brown eyes, as though another thought had just occured to her.
"I hope I wasn't interrupting this time either?"
At that, Octavien couldn't keep from giving a soft chuckle, both at the similarity this very moment shared with the first time they had met, and at the irony of her apologizing for something he was in fact most thankful for.
"One always does interrupt something when approaching another, does one not?" he pointed out with a jovial spark dancing in his bright sapphire eyes, despite still remembering that his first words to her ever had been somewhat of a contradiction to what he said now. "Be it thoughts, deeds or conversation. But it was nothing important, no, and even if it had been, I would still only have been thankful, for I do believe I tend to ponder too much for my own good."
That said, he then offered her another glance, realizing that most of the conversation they'd had, had seem to mostly revolve around him and his title, and that at this point, she knew far more about him than he did about her.
"And I also do believe that between the two of us, there is beginning to form a most unfortunate history of one always tending to have the other at a disadvantage", he added. "I had you at a disadvantage when first we met, regarding my title, and now you seem to have me at a disadvantage, as what I know about you consists of little more than the fact that your timing is impeccable, your clemency enviable, and that the other night was your first visit to the opera. Though neither is to be forgotten nor disregarded in any way, I can not help but to feel further equality is possible still, and I would very much, with your help and permission, of course, like to attempt to achieve it. What say you?"
(((ooc: Sorry if it seems scatterbrained, because... well, I am. *s*)))
#274
19th Aug 2008 at 4:21 PM
19th Aug 2008 at 4:21 PM
#275
19th Aug 2008 at 9:59 PM
19th Aug 2008 at 9:59 PM
Bella and Octavien - Palace Gardens
However, there was the point of looking at a particular feature on it’s own without the strings attached to everything else. Making a decision just how you would make it without all strings that tangled thought apparent to give that purity of deliberation. But it was impossible, was it not, to truly delude oneself? Did one not always know in the back of their mind that they are their own victim? This Bella only knew too well, the inability to truly look past everything without dark shadows whispering in her ear and thus, she had turned to someone who truly did not – could not, for the lack of the knowledge regarding the sordid situation – possess the same shadows; she’d made Octavien choose for her.
There were two scenarios, the first being that Octavien could turn out to be very unpleasant – this being the least likely of the two given what she knew about him – and thus giving Bella enough reason to spy on him for his own arrogant disposition rather than just through Elena’s employ. And she’d feel better for it, at having taken him down a peg or two even if it was in secret and through his wife. However, that truly was a stab in the dark for an excuse for her own misdemeanour.
The second scenario was that Octavien remained as pleasant as he had always been and offered her his genuine amicability, and thus she’d have no excuse to continue her selfish selflessness. She’d have no illusion of justification, only that she was violating the privacy of a man who’d been nothing but civil towards her to say the least, a Prince no less and thus setting herself up for treason. Worse yet, she was setting herself up for failure far before then; for the guilt of betraying a friend – if things ever got there – would surely get to her first.
"One always does interrupt something when approaching another, does one not?" he pointed out in jest, cleanly choosing the second scenario, leaving Bella to be either elated or dejected. She opted for a reserved mixture of both, hidden behind another amicable smile as she took his arm to join him on the walk. "Be it thoughts, deeds or conversation. But it was nothing important, no, and even if it had been, I would still only have been thankful, for I do believe I tend to ponder too much for my own good."
She had to admit, if circumstances were any different, her appreciation of his charms would have been made far less grudgingly.
"And I also do believe that between the two of us, there is beginning to form a most unfortunate history of one always tending to have the other at a disadvantage,” he declared after a moment of giving in to his ponderings once more. "I had you at a disadvantage when first we met, regarding my title, and now you seem to have me at a disadvantage, as what I know about you consists of little more than the fact that your timing is impeccable,” to this, Bella had to exude an amused chuckle of her own, a bashful glance thrown at him. He had a strange definition of ‘impeccable’. “your clemency enviable, and that the other night was your first visit to the opera.”
To all this, Bella kept her amicable countenance, giving only a small, amused and contemplative tilt of the head to accept his observations in slight jest to add to the apparent light-heartedness of the conversation.
“Though neither is to be forgotten nor disregarded in any way, I can not help but to feel further equality is possible still, and I would very much, with your help and permission, of course, like to attempt to achieve it. What say you?"
“Well, you certainly have my curiosity,” she declared with an accepting look and with that, a slightly puckish challenge crept into her eyes. “I say we have agreed terms in you offer me similar aid?”
Well, he had said that he wanted to be ‘just Octavien’ for a while, had he not? So, here was her chance to see the man behind the Prince once more, for whatever reason.
“My name is Isabella Devine,” she started, adhering to the terms by purposefully leaving out her title the way he had done in the ballroom, before proceeding to make one more request: “Please call me Bella.”
“However,” she began finishing off. “I must disagree that you ponder too much for your own good. I think it's the sign of a very healthy mind...,” she confessed, a shy smile spelling itself out once more as she turned her glance to the lawn before them. “At least I hope so.”
And there it was, her first donation of the help he’d asked for, the admission that she too was prone to lose herself to her thoughts. Though, really, given what she’d said to him in that ballroom, it was probably a realisation he’d already reached.
(((OOC: Works fine for me, Atropa
Also, hope this makes sense, I think I rambled a little… okay, a lot :D)))
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